Sylvana's History
by xneseyx
Summary: We all know what happens after Helgen, but what about the events that take place beforehand? This is Sylvana's story. Oneshot.


I don't have very many memories of my father. The ones I do have are rather fuzzy, as though looking through a sheet of ice. My mother told me many stories about him, though. My mother was in Cyrodiil during the Oblivion Crisis, and she went to Skyrim to escape it. Skyrim wasn't affected as badly by it. Apparently Daedra don't like the cold much. Anyway, she ended up in Riften. Not a whole lot of Bosmer there, mostly Dunmer refugees. She got a job at the Black-Briar Meadery, and that was where she met my father. He towered over her, which isn't unusual; just about everyone towers over Bosmer. I remember his coal-black hair, which is a feature I share with him. Most Bosmer have pale brown and blonde hair. My mother's hair was a beautiful golden blonde. They fell in love and were married towards the end of 3E 433, and I came along on the 17th of Last Seed, 4E 1. One of the first babies born in the new era. My father continued to work while my mother stayed home to take care of me. I never found out exactly what happened, but in 4E 10, my father died. My mother couldn't stand to stay in Riften after that, so she bought us passage to Valenwood. And for a time, things were peaceful. In 4E 20, I was returning home from a hunt when I heard my mother scream. I dropped my kill and ran to find her as fast as I could. I found a stranger in our home, standing over my mother's motionless body. I didn't know it then, but this stranger was a vampire. I grabbed a boar spear from the wall and attacked him. I ended up defeating him - a six-foot spear through the stomach trends to do that, no matter what you are - and that was my very first hint that this stranger had been more than he seemed. When he died, his body disintegrated into a pile of ash, leaving only his clothes and weapons behind. My second hint was the fact that my mother's throat had been torn open. After she was laid to rest, I got my third hint. I wasn't feeling very good for a few days after the funeral, and spent most of my time in bed. Out didn't take me long to deduce that I'd become a vampire. My clan followed the Green Pact as set down with Y'ffre, but I was certain that it didn't extend to vampirism, and I dared not risk asking. So I hid it. I only fed from animals, not wanting to risk being caught by my kin, or risk breaking the Pact in any way. Nine years passed in this way. Even we heard about the Thalmor, and the Third Aldmeri Dominion. They first expanded into Elsweyr, which went to prove how weak the Mede Empire truly was. When Thalmor representatives delved into Valenwood, they claimed that they were only trying to secede from the Empire. To my eternal chagrin, I must admit that I joined them. I joined the Thalmor to escape the prying eyes of my clan. After nine years of near hermitage, they were growing suspicious of me. I was the only one from my clan that left with the Thalmor. A few months later, towards the end of 4E 29, we expelled the Imperials and the Empire's influence from Valenwood, and were summarily annexed into the Aldmeri Dominion.

* * *

It took me nearly a century and a half, but I advanced through the Thalmor ranks and became a Justiciar. I was responsible for ensuring that our - the Thalmor's - policies and decrees were enacted and carried out. I suspect that it was slight racism that made me wait so long between promotions. You see, something I didn't see then was that the Altmer looked down upon anyone who wasn't a High Elf. I'd kept both my vampire status and my father's identity to myself. In 4E 171, I was sent to Cyrodiil to deliver an ultimatum to Emperor Titus Mede II - he was to cede large portions of Hammerfell to us, disband the Blades, outlaw worship of Talos - the most famous Nordic hero of all time - as well as pay us staggering tributes, or go to war. Understandably, the young Emperor said no. I upended the cart I'd been sent with, as I'd been ordered to do should he say no. I'd been told that it was laden with a surprise for the Emperor. Instead, I discovered that it was full of severed heads. I learned later that they had belonged to the Blade agents working in Thalmor lands. This was the beginning of what men labeled the Great War, but the Thalmor called it the First War with the Empire. If I'd known them what I know now, I don't know if I'd have gone to Cyrodiil. But then they would only have sent another in my place. I left the capital shortly after sending a pigeon with Mede's answer. Within days, Aldmeri armies invaded Cyrodiil and Hammerfell simultaneously. Lord Naarifin marched on Cyrodiil from the south, from hidden camps in northern Elsweyr and flanking the Imperial defenses along Valenwood's border. Leyawiin didn't stand long, and Bravil was cut off and besieged. Lady Arannelya crossed into Cyrodiil from Valenwood, going around Anvil and Kvatch to cross into Hammerfell. Smaller forces landed along the southern coastline of Hammerfell. The fractured Redguard forces offered a pitiful resistance, and much of the southern coastline was quickly overrun. The Imperial Legion retreated across the Alik'r Desert in the now-famous March of Thirst. The initial success of Naarifin's attack led us to believe that the Empire was far weaker than we had originally thought. Over the next two years, capturing the Imperial City and completely overthrowing the Empire became the primary objective. In 4E 172, we pushed deeper into Cyrodiil. Bravil and Anvil both fell, and by the end of the year, Naarifin had advanced to the walls of the Imperial City. In Hammerfell, we were content with the southern coastline, which was our objective in the ultimatum I'd delivered. The survivors of the March of Thirst regrouped in northern Hammerfell, joined by reinforcements from High Rock. In 4E 173, there was a small amount of Imperial resistance in Cyrodiil, but our advance continued. Legions from Skyrim bolstered the Emperor's main army in the Imperial City, but we forced the crossing of the Niben and began advancing up the eastern bank. By the end of the year, the Imperial City was almost entirely surrounded – only the northern supply route to Bruma remained open. In Hammerfell, in early 4E 173, Arannelya's main army succeeded in crossing the Alik'r Desert. They clashed with the Legion outside Skaven, and fought to a standstill. We remained in possession of Skaven, but we were also too weakened to continue advancing. In 4E 174, Thalmor leadership committed all available forces to the campaign in Cyrodiil, hoping a decisive victory to end the war once and for all. During the spring, we gathered reinforcements in southern Cyrodiil, and shortly after launched an assault on the Imperial City. One army marched north to completely surround the city, while Naarifin's main force attacked the walls from the south, east, and west. I was in the group to the north. The battle seemed to be going well for a time. I was taking a rest from taking care of the wounded when I saw the gates fall open on our troops. Men rushed out of the city, led by the Emperor himself. They cut through our ranks and fled to the north, leaving the city wide open. Thus began the infamous Sack of the Imperial City. The Imperial Palace was burned to the ground, and the White Gold Tower was looted. I saw all manner of atrocities that day that I will not put to parchment. I'll not forget them should I live to be one thousand. Back in Hammerfell, Arannelya's forces were driven back across the Alik'r Desert, taking heavy losses all the way. That winter, we were sure that the war in Cyrodiil was all but over, but Mede had different ideas. In what is now known as the Battle of the Red Ring, Mede divided his forces into three armies – the legions from Hammerfell were hidden in the Colovian Highlands near Chorrol, the Nord legions took up position near Cheydinhal, and the main army undertook the assault of the Imperial City from the north. We were taken by surprise, and five days into fighting, we were surrounded in the Imperial City. Our army was nearly completely wiped out. It wasn't long afterwards that the White-Gold Concordat was signed, officially ending the war. We got our terms for the ultimatum, in the end. I was there when it was signed. The Emperor didn't appear to be pleased, and I didn't blame him. He'd fought in a brutal, bloody war in an attempt to preserve face, but in the end, he'd lost anyway. There were many in the Empire that were angered that day – the Redguards and the Nords, for starters – but it's very likely that if Mede hadn't signed it, we would have destroyed them all.

* * *

In 4E 176, I was sent to Hammerfell. Mede had renounced it as a province of the Empire after the Redguards opposed ceding their lands, so as to preserve the treaty. Ever since the war had started, I questioned whether or not I was fighting on the right side. There seemed to be nothing that was too low for the Thalmor, and I wanted out. I was quite sure that the Thalmor wouldn't have just accepted a letter of resignation and allowed me to simply walk away. No, I needed to do something drastic. I decided to fake my own death. I wracked my brain, but I couldn't think of a satisfactory way to cover my tracks. 4E 177 solved that for me. The fight in Hammerfell still raged on, much to the Thalmor's annoyance. The Redguards were employing guerilla warfare quite nicely. After we bedded down one evening, we were set upon by a contingent of Redguards. Acting quickly, I changed out of my Justiciar robes and set fire to my own tent, a few supply tents, as well as some of those housing people in charge. I downed an Invisibility Potion and took off into the night.

* * *

I spent the next twenty-five years doing whatever I could to hamper the Thalmor's progress without being discovered. It didn't take the Redguards long to kick out the Thalmor – in 4E 180, the Second Treaty of Stros M'kai was signed. Having been fought to a standstill, they withdrew completely, making Hammerfell the only nation to defeat the Thalmor. I traveled from province to province, never staying long in one place. I couldn't know for sure whether or not the Thalmor believed me dead, and I didn't want to risk discovery for comfort. I stayed away from the Summerset Isles – wait, I forgot, they're called 'Alinor' now. I stayed away from Alinor, Valenwood, and Elsweyr, seeing as they were all under the Aldmeri Dominion's thumb. I stayed for some time in Black Marsh, seeing as it was separate from both the Empire and the Dominion. I even traveled to Morrowind, but I didn't stay there long. It was hard to breathe through all the ash in the air. The few times I passed through Cyrodiil, I stayed away from the major cities and wore a hood at all times in public. I eventually decided to travel to Skyrim, and that's where the story you know starts.

* * *

**I don't know for sure whether or not this is going to develop into a full-blown story, if I'm going to just leave it at this, or if I'll continue with a series of oneshots. Haven't made up my mind yet. Let me know what you think!**


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